Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters (49 page)

“I neva’ run again… masta’ I neva run…” She choked up pleading.

He turned calling out, “Come get’ha… let’s get it over with.” He sighed deeply as if burdened, ordering his two overseers and two other hired men. They hauled her out of the bed with nothing but a chemise on, kicking and screaming. They carried her, begging all the way to the back of the house and out a back door to the barn.

In the barn, they made their way to the rear corner where the black-smithy worked, stirring up intense heat in the forge. The embers were incredibly hot, glowing a bold yellow orange as he turned the hot poker, its end glowing as hot as the fire he pulled it from.

“Hol’her still – can’t have her moving.” He instructed those laying Emma Byrd on the table, on her stomach where she was straddled and held in place, her head left to hang over the table edge. Two others gripped her hair tightly, forcing her face sideways, first left and then, the next would be right.

“Nooooo… nooo… nooo… nooo… pleeeeeease noooooo.” She screamed, burning her throat until it was raw.

Master Byrd stood by watching, “Don’t want her all burned up, just her eyes. Seal’em shut so she can’t see no more mirrors. Leave the inside corners free for draining, but close the rest. I reckon that’ll keep her in her place.”

Out front, Jack Tanner passed by his man servant to the sounds of the loudest and most torturous screams he’d ever heard, so loud it reached him from as far back as the barn. He smirked, grinned and shook his head, “Lan’sakes, she’s a loud one.” Departing, he hoped and expected they’d be gone by the time he got back. Smartly dressed once more – with his pay stashed away - he rode off to see to other important business. He had an urgent missive to send. He never imagined that he’d be able to kill two birds with one stone.

He knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he’d
found
the missing runaway Negro fancy, Asiza. She’d taken off from North Carolina and it was said, she was wicked enough to kill 3 men, so beware. The town had a bounty on her head, literally. Unfortunately, he wasn’t about to risk taking her – killing her for a few mere hundred.

Up north, they had a tendency every now and then to kind of frown on that sort of thing – especially the civil rights philanthropist do-gooders. He wasn’t about to wreck his good thing for the likes of her. He lived north as a gentleman bounty hunter.

He kept his eye out for runaways that made it there, and then arranged a way to get them back to their masters – for pay of course. On occasion, depending on the payoff, he might even take them back. It was lucrative, his type of bounty hunting. Negroes were easier bounty than criminals – the latter could get you killed. Jack Tanner didn’t like being in danger, nor getting his hands dirty.

This Asiza sounded like a bit of both, just the kind that would get him dirty, especially the nasty business of taking her head off.

No -
not
his style. Therefore, he would notify them of her whereabouts, and watch her until their arrival.

He would be firm. If they wanted her, they would have to come and get her. He would settle for half the pay which he would get once he showed them where she was, and that it was in fact
her
. There was no sense in him ruffling his feathers over a Negro fancy.

On a bright, sunny, spring morning, Asiza sat in the carriage next to Della, with Asa and a few others from the boarding house. They were going to her land to see how the building work was coming along.

They were all looking forward to an up and coming happy event - Boaz had finally asked Della for her hand in marriage. Upon Broc’s return, they would be tying the knot, jumping the broom.

With Newt driving, that’s all the ladies could talk about. If they weren’t discussing the up and coming nuptials, they were excitedly discussing this new community.

A few single Negro women from the boarding house had met some of the men working at the building site from the ball. Seeing a brighter day for their futures, they could not help but look forward to establishing a home there.

Upon their arrival, Boaz was all teeth, so happy to see Della and Asiza. This would be their first time at the actual building site. Before, they’d come in the general area of it to attend Willard’s burial in the new cemetery. It was two miles before one reached the area of the homes and the one Broc was building for Asiza and himself.

Now, they were right in the center of it, amazed and encouraged by all the activity before them. The building area, from what they could see - seemed to go on and on. Wasting not a moment of their time there, Boaz was handing Della down, and then Asiza, while Newt saw to the others. Right away, the mini tour began.

The first place that he took them to was the cook tent where the plans were laid to carefully follow. He pointed out how they would be constructing homes, a school, a black-smithy, a sawmill, lumberyard, a merchant store and orchard with fields upon fields for crops.

“My goodness, what is this man doing, building his own little town?” Della simpered, proud to witness it.

“Yes indeed he is, yes indeed.” Boaz returned filled with pride.

“This here gone be our town, where folks like us – can do for ou’self – each other an’ be sho’nuff free.” He said the words as if all tasted good in his mouth, “Broc Wolf, he a good man, yes indeed.” He finished, looking towards Asiza.

Asiza wasn’t so sure about that, but gave Boaz a small smile just the same. He stood before them lighting the place up with his enthusiasm and loyalty to Broc. They walked from the barn following him, while he pointed out and stated what was to be built here and there. In truth, it was hard for her to fight her feelings concerning all that she was seeing. After all, she had entertained ideas of what they could do to help her people. Yet, it was evident that he was already doing it – making it happen. She knew the community wasn’t just for them, but for anyone who wished to live among them – black, white, Indian or Spanish.

Standing where she was, looking around them, those working were also smiling, laughing, sweating and putting their heart and soul into what would be their new home and place to grow. Her husband was paying them, providing all that was needed to make it happen. Using the gold she at one time had wanted him to hand over. Perhaps, that gold wasn’t so evil after all – depending on whose hands it was in. Once again, they were on the move with Boaz leading her to the location where Broc was having her home built for them. She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was much larger than all the others she saw. Also, it was the only log cabin. The foundation area that Broc measured, marked out and dug up was massive. They were looking into the cellar which was quite deep.

Boaz explained that the large cellar and larder would be right beneath a great big kitchen. The size of the structure would easily accommodate a dining room, bathing room, living room, a den for Broc - 4 bedrooms, a great loft and a porch that would run the entire length of the front and down one side. Already built in the center was one of the biggest hearths she’d ever seen - placed so to guarantee that heat would evenly spread throughout their home in the winter. Also going up – the outer shell – logs upon logs being notched and carefully placed. To her surprise, doing a great deal of the work on it was the Webster’s eldest son – Michael. Taking a break, he stood stretching his back and smiling her way. He explained that he needed to stay busy,

“Who knows, I might build my own here – on this land – near everyone else, so my children don’t have to grow up isolated, but can live where they belong. Your husband has already invited me to do so.”

“I would like that.” She offered, smiling.

Michael nodded and turned away, getting back to work.

Asiza suddenly thought about her sister Isabel – she would be perfect for him. Isabel was breathtaking and so graceful – in fact, a great deal like his mother. Oh how she wished that she was there… but she’d been sold away more than two or three years since. Isabel was years older than she was, in her twenties, maybe midway… it was hard to keep up with her sibling’s ages.

As for Michael, Asiza felt sorry for him. Most all close to the family knew his story now.

They knew how haunted and lonely he was – how much regret he tried living with. The good thing was that he was surrounded by his children, family and now them as friends.

Chapter Thirty-One

Turning in her expensive day wear, looking every bit a lady – observing her new world, Asiza knew she had to find a way to forgive her husband. Her struggle was in trying to decide, had he really betrayed her by claiming Clover Grove? With him becoming a master himself and forcing her to be the same – how could she live with it? Truth of it was, as a woman and certainly a Negro woman, she couldn’t really lay claim to anything. That, however, didn’t stop her from being disturbed by it.

She was troubled by what she knew was wrong surrounding slavery – and to now be married to a man who owned them, kept her up many nights. No matter how she tried to reason it out, she would never see slavery as anything but wrong. To accept what he had done,
was
doing – would be the most difficult thing for her to go thru. Not even death looked as dismal as the prospect of being an owner of slaves.

The thought nauseated her.

In truth, many things now… nauseated her. Her moods went easily from anger, to weeping and then laughter and then to melancholy. She found herself missing him so much that it sent her into tears one moment, which made her angry the next because she was supposed to be mad at him. Somehow, he was truly within her, deep down to the core of her. She wondered how she could love him so much,
still
– knowing how greedy he might possibly be.

Greed was a terrible sin. One of the root causes of slavery.

Asiza was so miserable with her thoughts, she felt driven at times to take off. She had enough gold, that she could take Asa and just disappear. She knew the Webster’s well enough to know that if she asked for travel aid to journey to her sister’s, they would see to it.

Her mother was with Suga – it crossed her mind more than a few times. She didn’t know what to do, how to overlook the things he did to gain wealth. From what Asiza had learned so far, and knew first hand, the wealthy were power hungry, greedy and callous over their fellow man. She wanted nothing to do with those who had schemed early on with what to do to take advantage of others, capable of anything to succeed, to profit – murder – steal land, resources – anything.

Surely Broc was not of that sort. Loving the Lord as she did, would HE not guard her heart? Guard her against falling for someone like that? She had to believe that it was so.

They were on their way back to the carriage. Boaz was quick to Della’s side, lingering with looks of adoration and love. He positively glowed with what he felt for her, and Della – while always more in control of her actions and emotions, gave indications of the same feelings. Asiza knew that Della was in love. She was the sort of lady who knew what she wanted and would not hurry into anything, forced to possibly settling for less. She responded to Boaz, because he was a man filled with all that she saw as a good man, a
real
man. He was not as educated as she was - did not speak so eloquently – nor read as she read – however, despite those things, he was above the requirements that she set for herself. He was a believer of the good book, a hard worker, intelligent and wise beyond anything that could be found in a book or school room. He was gentle, respectful of her, confident and unafraid of what needed to be said and done to make it in this world and lastly, he made her feel like a queen.

Asiza hoped that her husband was the same. Her circumstances were different from Della’s and there had been no planning, learning or careful choosing on her part. They were all in the carriage, about to head back to the boarding house, when Asiza called to him, “Boaz…”

He glanced from Della to her, smiling, “Yes Mrs. Wolf?”

“We’re beyond that Boaz, call me Asiza, please.”

He nodded, his quiet way of agreeing, but waited for the reason she needed his attention. “Tell me, please… tell me the truth – is my Broc – is he, a good man? I mean, to his heart and soul – a good man?”

The look that came across Boaz’s face said that he was taken aback by her question, but could see it in her eyes a need to be sure of what she had asked.

He walked to her side of the carriage, to be right next to her, looking her straight in the eyes, “Asiza… you got yo’self – heart and soul – one good
good
man. Lord know i’s so. I kno’ i’s so – all here – ever one – know i’s so. Oh yes ma’am… yes indeed you do.”

Tears flooded Asiza’s eyes, forcing her to glance away, down at her gloved hands, “Thank you Boaz, thank you.” She sniffed, nodding that it was enough.

Even with all the rain, April was beautiful. The days were no longer cold and biting, but moist with temperatures as gentle as a warm kiss. The kids were playing hide and seek around the boarding house – and giggling to himself, Asa ran to the front of the house to re-hide or else be discovered. All the snow was gone, leaving in its wake, soft moist earth and mud puddles - perfect stuff to play in. Asa certainly looked as if he’d had a good time in it. Ms. Laney would have a fit if they tracked the stuff in her kitchen. As for Asa, he was having so much fun he would worry about that later, when the game was over and it was time to go in for dinner.